


Sleep Well, Apollo

by heyitzcarley



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 18:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11811711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitzcarley/pseuds/heyitzcarley





	Sleep Well, Apollo

Grantaire slowly blinked awake to a breathtaking pain in his chest and stomach. With a groan, he pushed himself to his feet, pressing his hands to his torso and collapsing in the nearest chair. He started as he felt his hands warming where they touched his body. He took his red-stained hands away. Grantaire's eyes widened as he remembered what had happened.

"Two at one shot," he had said. Panicked, his head whipped around, trying to find Enjolras. And there he was.

Even in death, he looked like a fallen angel. His golden hair looked as if it glowed in the light streaming through the open window. His chin was lowered to his chest, which was unmoving. Blood soaked his white blouse, and in his hand… A flag. A red flag of the revolution.

Grantaire slumped back in the chair as a choked sob escaped his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image of Enjolras backed against the wall flashed behind his eyelids. Grantaire's fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms. Tears streaked through the grime covering his cheeks.

Grantaire stood and staggered over to the slumped revolutionary. He ran his hand through Enjolras' hair, tears still pouring down his face.

"In a way, it's my fault, you know." Grantaire whispered hoarsely to the corpse. "I could have stepped in front of you and you could have jumped through the window." The drunkard shook his head. "They would have shot you anyway. In the street. With Joly and Courfeyrac and Combeferre." Grantaire laughed mirthlessly.

"But how do I know that mes amis have been shot?" I have been asleep, have I not?" Again, he laughed. "I will go and look for them. I will bring them to you, my wonderful Apollo! You may see them again before you truly expire!"

Grantaire stumbled away from Enjolras, fumbling his way down the stairs of the building to the street, where again he gave a sob of despair. The bodies of the amis were scattered around the wide street. Grantaire stared at the carnage, his breaths heaving as he struggled against the pain of the shots in his chest.

"I promised Apollo he would see them again…" Grantaire whispered to himself, and he heaved himself toward the nearest barricade boy.

As Grantaire reached the body, he saw that it was Courfeyrac. Grantaire's tears again began to fall freely. "My dear friend," he cried. "What have they done to you?" Grantaire slipped his arms under the dead man's knees and back and grunted with pain as he lifted his friend.

Grantaire stumbled his way up the stairs and laid Courfeyrac at Enjolras' feet. "See, Apollo? I honor my promises to you!" The man's eyes filled with tears again. "I do tell you: I believe in you, Apollo."

Grantaire continued in a similar fashion for the rest of the amis, until he had laid all of his friends before Enjolras.

"My Apollo," he began. "I would love to die again beside you, if you would permit it."

Grantaire could feel himself beginning to expire as well. "I would stand again beside you Apollo, but I do believe that if I should stand again that I would fall." The man gave a genuine chuckle. "I did not see Marius in the street, you know." Grantaire thought a moment. "Do you believe he might have escaped? I did not see that strange volunteer, either." He wondered.

Grantaire was never known to be an intelligent or wise man, but even he could see that his time was running short.

"Oh, Apollo, how I wish I could have died with you!" the man exclaimed. "But I will die with you now, here with our friends, will I not?"

Grantaire struggled over to Enjolras and slumped against the wall beside him. "Apollo, do you know that I am, indeed, quite in love with you?" Grantaire asked.

Grantaire sighed and looked Enjolras over again. "Perhaps you would like to rest your feet, Apollo? Would you like to sit?"

He slowly scooted Enjolras down the wall, moving his feet forward inch by inch, until he was sitting beside Grantaire, his chin still to his chest.

Grantaire's gaze landed on Courfeyrac and Combeferre, next to each other on the floor. Even in death, their fingers stretched towards the other, almost brushing. Grantaire smiled. 

"I'm glad that you will be together forever, my friends." He whispered.

Grantaire turned to Enjolras and traced the blond man's cheek with his finger. "My dear Apollo…" He trailed off. "If I could have found a way to trade my life for your own, I would have done it." Grantaire whispered.

Taking Enjolras' face in his hand, Grantaire placed a featherlight kiss on his almost colorless lips. "I hope you permitted that, my love." Grantaire smiled and took Enjolras' hand. "I would like you to know this before I die." Grantaire whispered. "Apollo, did you know that I love you?" He smiled again. "I suppose you should have permitted that as well, yes?"

Grantaire kissed Enjolras' forehead and closed his eyes. "Sleep well, dear Apollo."


End file.
